almost perfect
by Baymel Hirel
Summary: She was almost perfect; she had the looks. She had the grades. She had the ideal body, and she was kind. Her heart was filled with good and morals. However, no one was able to detect the voices in her head that made her believe she was nothing but imperfect. People thought she was a diamond, she thought she was a penny. She was almost perfect.


Perfect.

Perfect.

Perfect.

Perfect.

Perfection is key, isn't it? If I'm not perfect than what am I? What is life if I am not perfect? Why can't people just understand I need to be perfect? Why can't they understand I _need_ to pluck all my unwanted hairs? I _need_ to make sure my eyebrows are symmetrical. I _need_ to make sure that all my body hair is waxed off until the buds rip off. Until they just stop growing altogether. I _need_ to make sure the hair on top of my head is combed to perfection. I _need_ to make sure that every strand is straightened, that every piece of my hair is soft and smells good. I _need_ to make my fingernails are filed to a perfect length. I _need_ to make sure my toenails are painted over. I _need_ to make sure my nails are painted the same color that is acceptable for all outfits.

Why can't they understand I _need_ to go into the bathroom every morning to make sure my collarbones are more refined. I _need_ to go to the bathroom every day to make sure everything is empty. I _need_ to weigh myself every day to make sure no weight is gained. I _need_ to make sure my arm is thin enough to locate my bones. I _need_ to make sure my waist is thin enough to fit a dress, and my breasts are big enough to hold the ideal body. I _need_ to make sure I run at least three miles every day with over four ice cold water bottles to drink. I _need_ to make that every day before school, I look into the mirror to put on my make-up. My make-up _needs_ to be perfect. My foundation _needs_ to match my skin color, my contour _must_ define all my beauty standards. My eyeshadow _needs_ to be dark enough to compliment my eyes, but not too dark that I look goth. My eyeliner _needs_ to be straight and smooth, too much and it will look ridiculous. Too little and it wouldn't make my eyes pop out. I _need_ to curl my lashes until it stays curled for the entire day. I _need_ to overdose my eyelashes on mascara until I've done over four coats. My bottom lids should be outlined with black eyeliner, and my cheeks should have a nice, light shade of pink for blush. My lips should require lipgloss at all times.

To finish my look, translucent powder to make it look natural. My outfit must look like I tried. I need to wear jeans with a pretty flowy shirt. Maybe a piece of jewelry every now and then. My shoes can never be something bland. It has to look like I am worth it. My grades must be honor roll material, the teachers have to like me, and the principle must recommend to the volunteer associations to hire me. My lunch must be light and colorful. I cannot be **fat**. If I am **fat** , I am not perfect. If I have hair other than my eyebrows and the top of my head, I am not perfect. If my nails are chipped and uneven, I am not perfect. If my grades are not As and Bs, I am not perfect. If my make-up is not symmetrical, I am not perfect. If my outfit does not make my figure look stunning, I am not perfect. If my legs are too **fat** , I am not perfect. If my arms are too flabby, I am not perfect. If my face is too rounded and plumped, I am not perfect.

If I am not perfect, I am not **pretty**.

And I have to be pretty.

I have too.

If I am not pretty enough, people will never accept me. They will hate me, and talk about me. I am on this tiny lifeboat full of people I know, and the clouds are raging in, thunder is rumbling and lightning is shooting bolts everywhere. The waves are becoming rough and they need someone to go. They need space and I am taking up that space if I say anything wrong, if I am not what they expected, they will throw me right out. I'm the failed captain, I'm the failed captain and they will just overrule me. They will have my head like they did with King Louis. Every day I walk in the halls of the school, all eyes are on me. All my friends are laughing, saying mindless jokes and I have to laugh or I'm out. I have to have a boyfriend or people will think I'm a joke, and my boyfriend has to be someone my friends approve of because they, "have" my back, but they really just want a good reputation. If I have no talent or if I am just a bore I'm out. I have to join a club I do not wish to be in, and if I'm not, I'm out. And if I'm out, I will be the laughing stock of this school. I have to be the best or people will tear me up like a group of hungry lions fighting over a dead zebra.

I shouldn't be thinking about being accepted in a school I'm attending for only one more year, but I can't help it. If I'm not accepted now, I will never be accepted anywhere. Nobody would want someone who is nothing but imperfections.

And if nobody wants me I will just be alone. I will die alone with no one to love me. I might as well kill myself now. I might as well take my own life and end it now before I suffer for the next fifty years. No one will miss me anyway, my mother is at work most of the time, my father is the mayor of this town, he has far more important events to attend to than worry about his own daughter. And my mother, she's a hard-working lady, I can never bore her with my problems when she has health issues to deal with herself. That's beyond selfish of me, what type of daughter would I be? My friends would likely laugh at me and not bother themselves with me. I should just find a pill bottle and overdose. No, I should make a noose and tie it around my neck. No, that would horrify my parents. I'll just walk into on-coming traffic and make it look like an accident. But I have a chance of living.

Living.

I can be a millionaire someday, why would I ever want to end my life? I can be a marry a prince, I can own lands. I can be a famous actress on an Oscar-Award winning film, I can win a Tony Award for the best musical, and the best actress. I can be an olympian, winning the gold medal five times in a row in one year. I can laugh at everyone who ever thought I wouldn't make it. I would laugh at hell itself, and everyone who looked down upon me. I don't need to perfect to be the best. I just need to be me. I just need to be myself.

I need to be perfect, who am I kidding? I just need to. If I'm not pretty, I will never be successful. I will never win, and I will never be _perfect_.

Perfect.

Perfect.

Perfect.

... _Perfect_.

* * *

 **Hello, everyone! This is a whole new fan-fic that I thought I'll make. I hope you enjoy the first chapter and be sure to review, comment, follow, and favorite for more! Tell me your thoughts and opinions on it and I'll try to make sure it's finished. ^-^ Thanks!**

 **;**


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